What Do You See?
by fanofkdc
Summary: Catherine and Greg get the bottom of our geeks' relationship.
1. Chapter 1

Title: What Do You See?

Author: fanofkdc

Summary: Catherine and Greg question Gil and Sara respectively about the GeekLove.

Rating: K, for once.

Author's Note: Going through a bit of writer's block with _Seven Go On Holiday_, so I thought I'd do a two-parter on how co-workers may view the relationship. Part of the conversations came from bizarre posts in YTDAW '6x24 Way To Go thread' about what Grissom would Sara if he were introducing her to someone.

Part One

Catherine knocked on the door to Gil's office. The door was open, granted, and from his position behind his desk, he had a clear view of any prospective visitors, irregardless of his singing fish hanging over the door.

"Can I help you?" Grissom asked politely, placing his pen down on top of a small stack of papers.

The blonde grinned and made a beeline for a chair. "Not so much you helping me, but me helping you." At his questioning glance, she elaborated. "Well, me grilling you."

Grissom pursed his lips and removed his glasses. "Why don't I like the sound of this?" Catherine and interrogation, in the same sentence - it didn't bode well.

Catherine shrugged and tossed her bangs from her eyes. "I'm a good investigator, and you're very private. Of course you're not going to like me prodding around."

This earned her a wince. "What would Sara think of all this?" he murmured, as much for his own benefit as that of Cath's. "Or did she send you here?"

A fluttery laugh worked its way around the room. "Oh, she's in a similar position with Greg. Think of it as a test for his new-found CSI status. He is questioning your girlfriend, and I'm questioning you."

Grissom managed to look partially affronted. "Sara is not my girlfriend. She's ...". _Yeah, that's a damn good point. What is she? My lover? No, too sex-based, not that that's necessarily wrong. There's just more to us than _that. _Partner? Too ambiguous. Life partner? Ugh, way too New Age. _"She's mine," he stated simply. Understanding the nuance of Catherine's glare, he defended himself. "Hey, there's parity, don't worry. I'm hers. You don't honestly think for a second that I could own Sara in any way, do you?"

"I had my doubts." Catherine uncrossed her legs, then crossed them the other way.

"So? What did you want to 'grill' me about?"

"Oh, _that_. Greg and I, and several other CSIs - okay, the whole night-shift - wanted to know what it is you two see in each other. I said I'd handle you, and Greg was curious as to what made Sara tick. To tell the truth, I think he just wanted some insight. You know, he wanted to put on a middle-aged paunch overnight, affect the need for glasses, grow a beard -" she stopped, getting the impression Gil wasn't all that grateful for the mental image this was conjuring. She grinned sheepishly. "Okay, I overstepped the mark. But aside from a couple of us knowing that you and Sara have been a long time coming, we were interested as to _why_ you got together."

He leaned back, folding his hands in his lap. "So basically, you want to know why I'm attracted to Sara?" He received a nod of affirmation. "And you don't mind the fact that I'll probably end up sounding like a clichéd, soppy old man?" Another positive gesture. "Fine. I can do clichéd _exceptionally_ well." He paused for a moment, an opportunity to gather his thoughts coherently. "Obviously, I find her attractive."

"You fancy the _pants_ off her," Catherine interjected, meriting another glare. She shrugged, signalling for him to continue.

"Okay, I do, but I would have put it a slightly different way, only I don't think that's appropriate for these surroundings. So yes, she's attractive. We've been friends for a very long time, so that kind of takes care of any problems on the 'interraction' front." He heard, and saw, Cath snort in derision. "What?"

"You? Know how to interract? I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

"I know how to interract with her _now_," he protested. "Besides, we _have_ had that sort of easiness sometimes - the way we seem to bond mentally, finish each other's sentences. Her interests are similar to mine too, so we find it easy to get on, we have a lot in common."

"Do said interests involve a bed?"

"Now _I'm_ going to pretend I didn't hear _that_. I am _certainly_ not going into details of our ... private life," he warned, frowning.

"So you're admitting there _are_ details, then?" she questioned cheekily.

"If you're so desperate to know, then _yes_, _certain_ said hobbies _do_ involve a bed." Catherine's jaw dropped. "We both enjoy sleeping," he finished, a wicked smile playing upon his lips. "What is the purpose of this inane exercise, anyway?" he thought aloud.

"We're bored," Catherine answered. "Shift is slow and we've had no cases through. Suck it up," she chided. "So, what else? What the hell made you change your mind about the age difference?"

Grissom shrugged. "I don't know. I don't even think age played into after a while. I think one day we flirted once too often, smiled at each other once too often, and I realised that I wanted to wake up to that smile every day for the rest of my life." He pulled a face. "God, I must sound so sentimental."

"Yeah," Cath agreed. "That must be a good sign, I've never seen you like that before." She smiled sympathetically. "Hey, Gil, it's all good, y'know? It's about time someone found happiness around here. But I think your sentimentality's rubbing off on me," she groaned. Composing herself, she continued. "So, what else?"

"She challenges me. She's a formidable intellectual opponent, and she teaches me something new every day. And, in line with my 'control issue,' as several people around here refer to it," he added, shooting her a meaningful look, "I enjoy being able to teach _her_ things. I also, perversely, kinda like the fact that she _needs_ me." He stared at his hands shamefully. "That's a bit ... wrong, isn't it?"

"Hell, no. Not really. At least, not if you look at it in the proper context. You're a teacher, so people coming to you for advice validates you. That she needs you ... it serves to bolster your ego, whether or not you actually admit to _having_ one." She ran a hand through her hair and grinned awkwardly. "What else?"

"I love her."

"No sh ... no kidding," she uttered, changing her mind mid-sentence. "Really?" He nodded. "But I though it was just you and the bugs," she joked.

"Oh, Sara's much more fascinating than bugs, although I never thought I'd hear myself say that. Plus, there's only a handful of guys I could normally talk to about them. But Sara? She has such a curiosity about them, it's good to be able share what I know." He checked his watch. "Are you gonna be much longer? 'Cause I really need to crack on."

"Having a break will do you good," Catherine disagreed. "When'd you two finally get together?"

"It's hard to say. I think Nicky's ordeal had a role in it, partially. Made _me_ realise that life was too short. For a while I was still holding back, but after everything, relations between Sara and I have improved, so I just asked her to breakfast, and it went on from there. Musta been after the last time I saw Lady Heather. But we'd been back on good terms for a month or so."

"What about Sara?"

"She's _always _waited. Longer than she should have done. And I'm not proud of that," he said before Catherine had a chance to admonish him for his dreadful lack of urgency. "And now, here we are."

Catherine pressed her hands to her knees and stood up. "Well, thanks for your help. I'm going to file my data, so to speak, then compare it to Greg's," she finsihed. "Thanks for your time."

Grissom just watched her leave his office, a bemused expression plastered over his face.


	2. Chapter 2

Part Two

"You got a few minutes?" Greg was standing by his locker, sorting through the haphazard mess, searching for something.

Sara finished her changing her shoes and shot the former lab tech an intrigued glance. "Sure," she said, relaxing on the wooden bench. "What's the problem? Tough case?"

"Nah, nothing like that," he assured her. He concluded rootling about in the steel locker, then slammed the door shut and took a seat next to Sara. "Catherine and I have this thing going. Not in the way you think," he added, seeing that Sara had misinterpreted his words. "We're trying to ... analyse? ... the details of your relationship with Bugman. You know, what you two see in each other, that kind of stuff."

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Any particular reason?"

"It's been the stuff of the water cooler for ages. Now that you've actually _resolved_ whatever it was that was going on, we wanna know what things are like now."

She looked sceptical. "Should I trust you? I know you're my friend, and that should account for something, but I ... I'm not sure."

"If you're not sure, ask Catherine, she'll back me up." He checked his watch. "Actually, she should be in with your significant other right ... about ... now."

_That_ made Sara laugh. "What? You seriously think Grissom's going to be okay with just opening himself up like _that_? To _Catherine?_ Are you guys nuts?" She stood up. "I'm going to rescue him," she stated.

"No, no, no," Greg iterated, leaping up and grabbing Sara's sleeve. "Can't permit you to do that, I'm afraid. Look, the sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you can go and be with lover boy," he joked.

Sara reluctantly resumed her seat on the uncomfortable bench. "Okay. And he's not my lover boy."

Greg grinned. "What do you refer to him as?"

One roll of the eyes later. "He's Gil. Or Grissom, if he's infuriating. Or Griss. Why?"

"You never call him 'lover' or 'partner' or 'paramour'?" This, Greg couldn't understand. Was she telling the truth, or was she hiding something? "I heard you called Hank 'baby.' You never use that with Grissom?"

The comment soured Sara's expression. "In case you hadn't noticed, Griss isn't _exactly_ Hank, thank God. I would _never_ call Gil 'baby.' The most we call each other is 'honey' or 'sweetheart,' but we wouldn't do that in public."

"So how does he introduce you?" This conversation was going nowhere fast.

"How do you think? You honestly believe he'd say to a suspect 'Yo, this is my gal Sara?' He introduces me as his partner, for the obvious reason that it's ambiguous. Although I _do _know that he occassionally refers to me as '_his _Sara.' No, it doesn't bother me," she added upon seeing Greg's open in part-shock, part-question.

"Okay," he murmured once he'd gotten over _that_ revelation. "Why do you fancy him?"

"Isn't that a bit reductionist? And ... immature? We're not high schoolers here. I'm _attracted_ to him because he's quiet, shy - all the things I am. And he's intelligent and sexy."

Greg pulled a face. "TMI," he mock-protested.

"Don't blame me for answering the questions you wanted to ask me. I like what he has to offer - he's willing to teach me new things and doesn't mind the fact that I'm nowhere near as clever as he is."

"Why do you put yourself down like that?" Greg asked softly. "All of us here know that _you're_ the only one who is anywhere _near_ his level of intelligence - you're both pretty equal, and I know he enjoys teaching you as much as you enjoy learning from him."

Sara shrugged and smiled in self-deprecation. "Force of habit," she muttered. "Anyway," she uttered, falsely bright. "I don't ever have to explain myself to him - he understands me, my drives, my job - obviously because he shares the same sort of hobbies and past-times with me. I know a lot of people wouldn't think it, and I never used to, but he's actually very ... empathetic. He knows instinctively when there's a problem, even if he _is_ a little slow in acting on it."

"What's your sex-life like?" This was blurted out, accompanied by a head-shake and red cheeks.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" she murmured. "Did I hear you right? Did you just ask about our _sex_-life?" She received a nod in answer to the semi-outraged exclamation. She quickly calmed down, more shocked and caught off-guard than anything. "Good," she stated awkwardly.

"Just 'good'?"

"You want me to go into detail? 'Cause I will," came the retort. "Or do you just wanna know that it's satisfying?" She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't believe you and Cath," she breathed. "I can just imagine how he's going to cope with getting cross-examined by El Blondie." She shot Greg an impatient glance. "Next question. Sex-free, please."

"Um ... does the age difference matter to you?"

His words were met with a scornful expression. "Greg, I love you dearly, but you are being so obtuse right now," she warned.

"Hey, I didn't come up with questions," he protested. "Just answer."

"Obviously it doesn't bother me, because _I_ was the one who instigated the relationship, or at least made my interest known. When you think about it, fifteen years isn't actually that big a gap. It certainly bothered Gil, but I think he used that as an excuse to not do anything. I suppose ...". She thought back to his confession to Lurie, the one to which she had been unwittingly privy. She threatened him, more than she had ever imagined. There he had been, happy in his world of corpses and bugs, and in she had waltzed and spoilt it all for him. Granted, there had been that spark of attraction when they first met, but it had been long-repressed, their energies focused on forming a strong friendship, one that had been slowly eroded over time because of those repressed emotions.

"I won't ask you to go into that," Greg said considerately. "Certain things should just be left between certain people."

Sara smiled. "So you can ask about our sex-life, but the gritty details of why it took so long for us to get anywhere are sacred cows."

"Pretty much. But you can tell me _how_ it finally came about, if you like."

"How very considerate of you I guess ... I think Grissom getting caught up physically in the whole Nick situation was scary. Made him realise how little time we all have here. Things gradually started getting back to normal, but he approached me with a 'proposal,' for want of a better word, shortly after that human experiments case. You know, the Nazi guy who performed eugenics experiments? The American Mengele," she explained.

Greg nodded. "Do you love him?"

A snort. "Course I do," she exclaimed. "Why else do you think I stayed around for so long, fawning about all over him like a puppy? 'Cause that's what it was. Either I'm desperate, or an eternal optimist, and after all I've seen, I wouldn't be surprised if it _weren't_ the latter."

"You're not desperate. I gotta say, I have noticed certain things about him when he's around you. Or talking about you. The feelings have _always_ been mutual It's just taken him a while to pull his head out of the microscope," he finished.

"Hey, you stole my line," came a disgruntled voice from the locker room entrance. Sara looked up to see Catherine. "I've finished with your _boyfriend_," Cath teased. "You can have him back now."

"I hope you didn't embarrass him," Sara scolded lightly, standing up. "Am I free to go?" she asked Greg.

"Sure. Catherine and I are going to compare data," he said, tapping the side of his nose. Sara just smiled and sashayed off to find Gil.


	3. Chapter 3

The final installment of the story. Enjoy!

Sara lay in their bed, waiting for Grissom to finish up in the bathroom. She was wearing nothing under the covers, neither of them did when they were in bed. _More comfortable_, Grissom had reasoned. _Nope, just easier for us to ..._ came Sara's retort, and she had gotten great pleasure in seeing the red flush that tinged Grissom's neck. After all this time, he was still shy, still modest, still polite. But damn, was he good in bed. And well-hung. She giggled at the thought, noting the irony of it as Grissom turned off the bathroom light and appraoched the bed, stark naked.

"Hey," he said, sliding in next to her.

She turned on her side and slipped her hand across his broad chest, allowing to drape over his hip. "Hey," she smiled back. She waited for him get comfortable, which meant him propping up his head on his left hand and stroking her body with his right hand. "I hear you got interrogated by those with an insatiable thirst for gossip," she murmured, feeling his fingers still.

"Sara, sweetie, it's bad enough Catherine has to ask me about our sex-life, I don't think I really want her ghost floating about in our bedroom." He resumed his stroking, the rough flesh of his fingers at odds with her soft skin.

"Her ghost, or Greg's," Sara agreed. She supressed a smirk when she saw his eyes widen. "Yup, _he_ asked, too."

Grissom's voice shook, the worry and anxiety genuine. "What did you say?"

Her hand squeezed his hip in comfort. "Don't worry, honey, I told him you were good. Out of interest, what did you tell Catherine?"

"That it was none of her business," he said truthfully.

"Should I have toed the party line?" she inquired, all of a sudden concerned that she had perhaps revealed too much to Greg.

It was Grissom's turn to supress a smirk, but it didn't work very well. "Nah. Wouldn't be very magnanimous of me if I made you do _everything_ I told you."

"From what I recall, the only time you obey _me_ is when I ask for you to be harder." _That_ satisfied her, seeing that crimson tide invade his cheeks. "Being a bit less polite isn't going to kill you," she told him.

"Maybe not," Grissom conceded. "But I don't really want to go into that now."

"So, what else did Cath ask you?" Sara was genuienly interested to see how Gil had reacted to his friend's prying. Another friend, such as Jim, or even a protege like Warrick, would have just accepted things as they were, patted Grissom on the shoulder and said a hearty _well done_. Not Catherine - she needed to know every little detail, and for some reason, as Sara thought about this, she became slightly angry.

He noted the change in her expression and caressed her jaw. "You okay?" he asked softly, leaning forward and nuzzling her nose with his. "What's up?"

"It justs annoys me, that's all. Why does Catherine need to know? Will it kill her if she isn't privy to our relationship."

Grissom's shrug was _truly_ magnanimous. "Sara, honey, she probably does have _some_ right to know. _She_ was the one who pushed me to send that plant." Oh, that was _such_ thw rong thing to say.

"So they were from her? Not you?"

Grissom considered the dangers of being completely honest, and then decided to take a shot in the dark. "It was after the wound tract episode. Y'know, when you reminded me you were a vegetarian?" Sara nodded cautiously. "Well, as was customary back then, Catherine came back to mine after the case, and being typical Catherine, she gave me a little insight into the whole dynamic of office relationships and the like. Told me I needed to pull my head out of the microscope, regard the human emotions around me, that sort of thing. So I decided to get you a plant. Show you that I was thinking of you."

"So it was more of an indirect influence? Thank God for that," she sighed, relieved.

"Honey, I'm just a bit dense when it comes to people. You just have to be patient."

Sara smiled and kissed him languidly. "Mmmm," she moaned. "I don't mind being patient when I get to taste _that_," she enthused, closing the gap between them.

Grissom's big, gentle hands cupped her. "See, I wish I hadn't taken my time. If I'd have kissed you before we were together, I would have been finding it very hard to resist the urge to jump you at work," he whispered.

"Really?"

"Really. You have no idea how often I thought about doing it. When you'd come and stand in my door-frame, all I could do was push away thoughts of closing the blinds and shutting the door and scooping you up and doing you right there on the desk, or up against a wall," he muttered, breathing becoming rather laboured.

His words sent sparks through her spine and triggered a longing between her thighs. "I'm not the only one, then," she sighed.

"I _really_ hope you didn't tell Greg any of this," Grissom murmured, voice trapped between his teeth and Sara's shoulder. He kissed her gently, savouring her flesh and her taste.

"Why would I do that?" Sara asked, mock-offended that she would contemplate such a thing. "The only person I tell my fantasies to is you. Unfortunately," she added as he raised his head and looked at her hopefully, "I have no new ones. Sorry. But you shall be the first, and only, person to know as soon as a new one pops up."

"Good," he growled. "Now can we please leave talk of our friends out of this conversation. I don't particularly want thoughts of them whilst we ...". He trailed off and grinned suggestively.

"Oh, fair enough. Have your evil way with me, dastardly bugman," Sara intoned, doing her best to affect the nuance of a medieval maiden.

"Oh, I will. And don't count on the Prince Charming side of my personality popping up and rescuing you."

"I shall look forward to his non-appearance."

The End.


End file.
